The Seventh Hook
by P.J. Bedingfield
Summary: Who's name appears above the seventh hook?


(_Thanks for all the reviews! )_

**The Seventh Hook**

By: Peggy J. Bedingfield

Hank Stanley opened his eyes to darkness and cold damp silence. "Whaaaaa?" he moaned. Groggily, he tried to right himself but stopped at the sudden intense pain that traveled up his leg and into his hips. The darkness around him was complete. "Should have been a cat," he thought. Something ran down the side of his face and he reached up in a panic, not sure what he would find. His fingers were immediately covered with a warm sticky substance that he realized was his own blood.

"Blood?" he thought in puzzlement. "Musta hit my head on something." He continued the self-evaluation. "Hmmm…I can move my hands with no problem, so no broken bones there. Back doesn't hurt, head feels kinda full, concussion, maybe?" He moved his legs and groaned out loud, "Busted leg!"

"How in the world did I end up here; and where the heck is 'here'?" '' As his head cleared from the pain, memory returned. He had been talking to Chet when the ground opened up, and he fell through to a long tunnel. The last thing he remembered seeing was the burning structure they had been working on for the last two hours.

A sudden squawking noise at his side caused him to jump, and he gave a nervous chuckle when he realized it was just his radio. He grabbed in the area where the sound had originated and felt the shape of the handy talkie fill his grasp.

"Cap. Stanley to HT 51!" Hank waited. "Cap. Stanley to HT 51, do you copy?" Static was his only answer until the radio went ominously silent. Hank felt a piece of the radio fall off. He ran his hand over the radio and found the antenna was broken. He rubbed his face and winced at he bump he found.

A violent shaking and sudden queasiness assailed his senses. He leaned over and vomited. Shock was starting to set in. He huddled into his turnout coat and whispered to himself, " The guys will find me." With that thought, Hank Stanley, Captain of Station 51, passed out.

"OK, Cap!" Chet answered when he heard his commander's voice behind him. He looked around to give a thumbs up but stopped as he realized the captain was no longer there. Chet shrugged and looked off to his left. The tall figure walking away from him did not look like his Commander, but in the smoke he was not sure. Shrugging, he went back to his assigned duty.

Three hours later, the fire was out and cleanup had begun. McConnike looked around for the Station 51 Captain and frowned in annoyance when he did not immediately see him. Seeing the 51 Engineer he tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, "Where is Stanley?" he asked.

Stoker looked around, startled, "He was talking to Chet and Marco last I saw, sir. Over by the north side of the building." Mike pointed off to his left.

"Okay, Thanks," McConnike said.

Stoker watched with as a frown creased his brows. It was not like the Captain to not be around when needed, especially when the Battalion Chief was on the scene. He glanced around but did not see his Captain's long lanky form anywhere.

"Johnny, Roy!" called Marco to the two paramedics. "Cap's missing! Have you seen him?"

Johnny and Roy looked at Marco in puzzlement. "No, not recently, anyway." " You sure he's missing?" Johnny and Roy asked together.

"Yeah," Marco said worriedly, "McConnike's been looking for him. Seems the last one to see him was Chet, and he said he thought Cap was joining you two."

Roy and Johnny shook their heads. "Nope, he never came over to triage." Roy and Johnny shared a worried look with Marco each knowing their commander would never leave the scene of a fire without approval, which meant only one thing.

McConnike called all the firemen together. "We've got a missing man. I want you to split up into your groups and check the ruins with a fine toothed comb. If you see anything suspicious, call out. Understood?"

Each man nodded. Word had already gotten around of the missing captain, and all were worried what they would find in the ruins of the burnt out building.

The sun was setting as each company returned and reported in to the Battalion Commander. He shook his head; this did NOT look good. He hated it when any of the men were injured in their work, but to have one just vanish was even worse.

"OK, men, I have the dogs coming in. Report back to your stations. I'll keep you informed."

"Ahhh…..Chief," Mike Stoker said, as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, "We'd like to stay…..?"

McConnike nodded his understanding. "That's fine. We'll stand down the station until we can bring in a replacement….." He held up his hands at the signs of protest he saw coming.

"It will be temporary, of course, but we can't have this station out indefinitely." The men let out a sigh.

"The squad will be on call still, as you can respond unsupervised on most runs." Roy and Johnny nodded, but each hoped there would be no calls.

A group of gawkers stood behind the bright yellow tape with which the police had cordoned the area. One in particular took exception to the fire. She sighed at the loss of the building, and grimaced as the whining voice of the realtor assaulted her ears,

"I guess this means you won't be buying the place." It was a statement, not a question.

She barely suffered him a glance as she answered, "Now, you are a bright one, aren't you." She returned her attention to the gathered men and listened as the Battalion Chief made the announcement of a missing man. Turning to the realtor she asked, "Do you still have those floor plans I asked for?" At his nod she said, "Could you get them for me?"

Hoping for a sale even now, he pushed through the bystanders and trotted to his car where the old and faded plans lay. Guiltily, he wiped the coffee stains from the old brittle paper. He pushed back through the growing crowd and handed her the plans.

She gave him a cursory nod and said, "Can I keep these?" At his nod she pushed through the crowd, and waved a police officer over.

"Yes ma'am? Can I help you?" he asked.

She waved the rolled plans at him,

"I have floor plans for the building. They may need them in their search for the missing man."

The police officer smiled in a condescending manner,

"Well, now, ma'am, it seems they already have the floor plans I don't think they will need yours, but thanks anyway." With that he turned and walked off.

"Well, I never!" she said angrily. Ducking quickly under the tape, she headed for McConnike and the other assembled men, but was stopped by a rough hand turning her back and shoving her under the police tape.

Now look, I told you they have the plans, not that they will need them. Please stay back and out of the way!"

"Look, you idiot, the plans they have are wrong. They are too new…….."

"Look, Miss, the fire personnel have all they need. They don't need your help, Okay? If you give any more trouble, I'll put you in the car and haul you in for interfering with a search and rescue!" The officer had his finger pointing at her and an angry look on his face.

"What an a……." she said as she whirled and walked away.

The men at Station 51 sat around in a quiet mood. None of them felt much like eating the meal Johnny had cooked. They pushed the food around on their plates listlessly, and eventually just scraped their food down the disposal.

"I don't get it," Chet said for the twentieth time, "how could he just disappear? I mean, he was right behind me!"

Mike got up and clapped Chet on the back, "Don't beat yourself up, Chet. None of us realized he was missing. We all assumed he was working somewhere else around the fire."

"Yeah, but……. " Chet started.

"We all feel the same way, Chet," Roy and Marco said together.

The tones sounded: "Squad 51, child trapped. 1231 Alameda- 1-2-3-1 Alameda, cross street Lamar. Time out 18:40"

"Squad 51; 10-4 KMG 365"

Mike handed Roy the address slip. "Don't worry. He'll be found." Mike patted the windowsill. Roy just nodded.

Roy flipped on the lights and siren as they pulled from the station and into evening traffic.

Hank moaned. He rolled over to his side and winced as his broken leg reminded him it was still attached. "Still dark?" he thought with confusion. "The sun should be up by now. Guess maybe it's raining, sure feels wet……" Hank drifted back into unconsciousness.

A little while later as consciousness returned, Hank sat up and dazedly felt around. A small lump in his pocket reminded him of the emergency flashlight he always carried for just such occasions. He sent up a silent prayer that it still worked after his abrupt fall and landing. He pushed the button and was rewarded with a bright beam of light. He squinted against the sudden brightness, but felt relief at the ability to see again.

He played the light around, trying to get his bearings. The light reflected off of several shiny objects. A sense of horror filled his gut as he realized the objects he was looking at were stolen turnout coats and helmets. He fought against the pain in his leg and head as he slowly forced himself to rise. Slowly he hobbled over to the hanging coats and read off the stations represented there.

"8, 18, 29, 34, 42, 45,……" Hank swayed in shock and fear. He quickly swung the flashlight around, pointing the beam into every nook and cranny he could find. He paused as he saw a man lying pinned on the floor.

"Hey, you OK over there?" he asked. The man neither replied nor moved. Hank made his way to the man's side, but retreated as quickly as his injured leg would allow. The man's face was a dusky shade of blue.

"I'm sorry, man. I wish I could have helped." Hank looked around for something to cover the man's face, as he did not like the empty look of the dead man's eyes staring into nothing. He found a torn and dirty shirt, and gently placed it over the man's face.

Hank turned his attention back to the coats hanging neatly along the wall. He slowly made his way down the line, knowing the names of each man to whom the coats once belonged. He came to the end and saw an empty hook. Above the hook was written a name and the station from which the next coat would come. Hank swallowed convulsively and stepped back, his injured leg giving out and collapsing under him. He landed on a dirty mattress and rolled on to his side, trying to get his leg straight, instead of curled under him. Hank felt himself giving in to the darkness, and had just enough sense of mind to switch off the flashlight before succumbing to the inevitable blackness.

"Hey, Nancy, one of the paramedics left his turnout coat behind. Pete said he found it laying next to the parking spot where one of the squads was a little over an hour ago," Carol said to her friend. They were both getting ready for their shift on the Pediatrics Ward and Carol still carried the coat.

"Really?" Nancy asked. "Let me see it. Normally there's a name on the back." Nancy turned over the coat, "Ummm, thought so, see right here," she pointed. "Desoto, I think he's with 51. Why don't we give it to Dixie and she can get it back to him?"

Carol nodded her agreement, "Good idea."

Suddenly a very agitated nurse, brunet hair flying, came barreling around the corner nearly knocking Nancy down. "Oh, jeez, Nan, I'm sorry, didn't see ya there. Hey Carol. Y'all working Pediatrics tonight?" she asked.

"Yeah, Marsha. Hey, can you get this to Dixie for us? Seems a paramedic lost it this afternoon, what with all the rushing around going on."

"Sure, no problem. Whose is it?"

"The name says Desoto. Doesn't he work out of 51?" Nancy asked.

Marsha nodded, "Ummm Hmmm……sure does. Here, I'll get it to the right person for ya."

"Okay. Thanks, Marsha." Both girls hurried off to get to their assigned stations before the head nurse came looking for them.

Marsha paused in her headlong flight. She stared down at the coat hanging over her arm. A sudden noise caused her to jump in alarm until she realized it was the two-way radio in the pocket. She reached down and flipped the off switch. An idea began to form in her mind as she hurried to the Nurse's Lounge.

Roy was searching through the squad in an almost frantic manner. Johnny watched silently for a minute, then curiosity got the better of him and he asked, "What are you looking for?"

"My turnout coat is missing. I had the handy talkie in the pocket. Both are missing," Roy's voice was muffled as he searched in the equipment compartment. "I gotta find it or be in big trouble! Cap'll kill me!" Roy stopped speaking as what he said dawned on him. Johnny saw the stricken look that crossed his partner's face, and knew his own face reflected the same emotion.

"Awwww……you'll find it," he said, "and we'll have Cap back, too."

Roy ran his hand through his already disheveled hair and sighed heavily,

"I always sweat it out when you come up missing or hurt, but Cap? He's only gotten hurt once or twice since I've known him, and not much on the job. But to just vanish?"

Johnny nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it's kinda strange; almost like something from the Twilight Zone, ya know?

"Well, maybe your coat'll turn up later. Probably dropped out of the squad somewhere. Someone will find it and return it."

"I hope so." Roy's shoulders drooped as he walked away from the squad to join the rest of the group in the day room to wait.

Marsha pulled her truck in behind the last remaining wall and parked. She scanned the area to be sure no searchers remained at the site. Rummaging around in the glove compartment she found the flashlight she used in emergency situations. She flicked the switch and was gratified to see the light shining brightly and steady.

She stumbled across the debris towards the place where she thought the hidden door would be best located. At one point she spotted a small hole and quickly ran her light down into the darkness, only to see a shallow depression filled with rocks and dirt. She sighed in relief.

Marsha kept her light on the ground in front of her. She scanned each shadow and crevice, not wanting to miss anything. Finally, her eye caught the vague outline of a possible door. She knelt and wiped as much of the debris away as she could.

"Great," she thought." Some of this stuff is too big to lift." She spied a broken shovel, half the handle still attached. Quickly she tackled the pile of rubble, and soon had a small area clear. Kneeling once more, she ran the light across the ground. Her fingers came in contact with a slight depression in the old floor. She traced it and let out a soft cry of jubilation.

"I knew it was here!" she said to herself, and began to push, pull and poke until she was ready to cry in frustration at the stubborn door. Giving it one last stomp she jumped back as it swung open with a loud screech of protest.

"YES!" she cried. She fell to her stomach and leaned over the opening, "Sir! Hello? Can you hear me?" She listened. A low moan came from the underground room. "Sir, lie still. I'll be there in a minute!"

Marsha pushed away from the opening and eyed the clutter of fallen bricks and other rubble. A ladder was what she needed, but since one was not available she would have to make do with whatever she could find. She spied a large cross-section of the ceiling that had fallen in. Carefully she walked around it, studying the way it was laying, the direction she would have to move it, and the distance that it would need to be shifted. She would need the truck to move the heavy beam, but first it needed to be moved closer to the opening.

She trotted to her truck and pulled out the 'come-along' she had bought several days previously. Along with that came out rope and a tack box of medical supplies. 'Okay,' she thought, so it was for horses. She then took the coat with Desoto's name on it and added it to the pile.

She carried the supplies to the area where she would be working, then went back and moved the truck into position. The moon came out and bathed the area with its soft blue light. She was glad of the light and made good use of it. She put on the turnout coat and went to work. Quickly fastening the come-along to the truck, she then ran the line to the beam and secured it on a piece of wood still attached to the crossbeam. She heaved on the come-along. It took an hour, but soon the beam was in place, ready to be slid into the hole.

She rigged the beam with the come-along again, this time using a metal crossbeam to loop the rope across it and raise the wooden beam. With careful precision she maneuvered the truck around until a soft thump was heard and the truck was jarred to a halt.

Moving quickly, she jumped from the truck and undid all the ropes and trappings. Taking her tack box and attaching two lead lines to the handle, she lowered the box to the floor of the basement. She found Roy's gloves in the pocket of the coat and pulled them on. Her hands were so little, the gloves just swallowed them. She grinned at the sight.

She started down the beam when the ground shuddered and the beam shifted. A fierce pain jabbed up her leg and the surprise made her lose her grip on the beam. She fell and landed on the tack box, the wind knocked from her lungs.

She lay there, stunned. Gradually her breath returned and her head stopped its spinning. She sat up and winced as her leg sent pain signals upward from her leg to her brain. She raised the leg of her jeans and shone the light on her calf. A large ugly red welt was forming. She reached for the tack box and opened it to dig around and find what she needed. Taking her hemostats and X-Acto knife, she carefully sliced away the skin over the part of the splinter she could see.

"Oooowwww, oww,ooww!" she cried when she pulled the splinter out, "Jeez wheeze, that hurt!" She rested her head on her knee and waited for the spots to stop forming in her eyes. She treated the wound and wrapped it with a soft 4x4 bandage and vet wrap. Finally she was able to move around and search for the missing man she knew was there.

She found him lying on a dirty mattress with a dirty army blanket over him. Quickly she assessed his condition and started pulling supplies from her tack box.

"Sir?" she said, shaking him softly, "Sir, can you hear me?"

"Hun?" Hank said, "Is it time to get up already?" Hank rolled over, away from the bothersome voice, but the shaking continued.

"Wake up, sir!" the soft voice was firm, almost steely. "I need you to open your eyes and look at me!"

Hank sighed and tried to do as the voice commanded, but found it hard to obey. His head hurt, as did his leg and chest. Finally, he forced his eyes open and tried to focus on the face with the soft but firm voice.

"Who are you? Where's the paramedics?" he asked, troubled, but not sure why.

"They'll be here shortly," she answered. "Now, tell me where exactly you hurt."

"Head, Ummm, ribs? Leg…." Hank lost consciousness briefly then roused enough to ask again, "Who are you?"

"I'm called Li'l Angel," she told him, just so he would have a name to call her. It was an old handle she had used when working on the big rigs and talked on the CB.

"Humph…….you sure are an Angel," Hank said on a sigh and passed out once more.

Marsha smiled to herself, "Such a charmer." She pulled a moist towelette from the box and cleaned Hank's forehead where it was cut. She put a 4 x 4 bandage on it and strapped it in place with bright pink, self-adhesive wrap. She grinned, pink, on a man?

She dug out her scissors and cut Hank's boot from his foot, then split his pant leg. She pulled a leg splint from the box and again used the hot pink wrap to splint the leg. She could not help it, she had to laugh at the sight of hot pink on a man.

Marsha pulled the BP cup she used on the horses and took Hank's blood pressure; then checked his pulse. It was strong and steady. He had a slight fever, but that was to be expected under the circumstances.

Once she had done all she could, she decided to look around before calling in the 'Cavalry.' She stood and looked around the dark room. Hank's flashlight lay at her feet, so she picked it up and used it to help illuminate the area.

The first thing she saw was a body shrouded in a dirty blue T-shirt. She slowly approached the body and removed the cloth from the face. Dead eyes stared upward. She followed his dead stare and saw above him, written in what she decided was his own blood, was a single statement, "All but one……." She dropped the shirt back onto his face and turned away. The lights caught the coats and helmets hanging from hooks on the dirt wall. She approached and looked at the coats and read the names on each one. The helmets obviously went with the coats. Marsha glanced back at the dead man.

"Why?" she wondered, but no answers were forthcoming. She kept looking; counting six coats and helmets. On the wall one remaining hook was left open, waiting for the coat to which unlucky fireman? She stepped closer to read the name scratched into the dirt. She gasped and stepped back. "What kind of sick mind did he have?" she thought angrily, then as quickly lost the anger, after all, the man was dead So what did it matter whose name was there?

Hank moaned. He tossed around on the mattress and mummered in his fever induced sleep. She returned to his side and wiped his forehead. His fever was rising.

Marsha pulled the radio from her pocket and called, "LA this is HT 51, do you read?" She waited, then tried again, "LA this is HT51, DO YOU READ?"

"10-4 HT 51, we copy. Who is this? Please identify yourself."

She ignored the order, "LA there is a Code I at 2661 Watchtower Drive. Also know there is a Code F at scene. Please send an ambulance and rescue team."

"10-4 HT 51," said the dispatcher's voice. "Please identify yourself; how are you on this channel?"

"Look, just send help, ok?" she said, "I'll stay until they get here."

The dispatcher was upset, but obviously the person on the other end knew their codes and sounded sincere. He toned out the stations and contacted the police. He told them an unknown woman had called in the rescue.

At Station 16 the klaxons sounded, lights came up and the men scrambled for the trucks.

"Station 16 Code I at 2661 Watchtower Drive, 2-6-6-1 Watchtower Drive. Time out 3:40."

The call was acknowledged and the trucks barreled from the station.

Station 51 came to life at the call. The men jumped from their bunks and crowded into the day room. Captain Howard waved them all back to the dorm. The men protested. Watchtower Drive meant Cap had been found and the rescue was in progress. Shortly there after the tones for 51 rang out,

"Squad 51 respond with Station 16, Code Itimes 2. 2662 Watchtower Drive Time out 4:07"

"10-4 KMG 365" Captain Howard responded.

Roy jumped in the driver's seat and Johnny jumped into the passenger side. Captain Howard gave Roy the address slip, "Keep us informed," he said. Roy nodded.

Roy applied the brakes and the squad screeched to a halt. Both paramedics jumped out and began pulling equipment from the compartments.

Dwyer came over and said, "Jim's hurt. I've got him covered, but you need to get to Cap. He's down the hole." Neither of the men understood what Dwyer meant until they got to the scene.

Night-lights were up and the area was flooded bright as day. "Roy, Johnny," the Captain of 16 said, " You two will need to go down. The ground is unstable, so be careful. Hank is off to the side on a mattress, according to Dwyer."

Roy and Johnny nodded. "Where's the rescuer that called it in?" Roy asked as he fastened his safety harness.

The Captain of 16 shook his head, "She left just as we came up on the scene. But she did stay until we arrived."

The two paramedics looked down the hole. They looked at the large crossbeam leading into the hole and Roy asked,

"Is that beam stable enough to use?"

"Yes, Dwyer and Jim used it, but the ground is shifting, so be quick and careful. Jim fell off the beam when things shifted."

"Okay, let's go, Johnny," Roy said to his partner.

Johnny was looking at something overhead. Roy looked up. There on the end of the ragged beam was Roy's missing turnout coat.

"Well," Johnny said as he slipped over the edge, "You got your coat back."

"Yeah," Roy said looking up, "What a way to have it returned."

Roy and Johnny landed on the floor and found Hank laying on the mattress Dwyer had mentioned. Bright pink vet wrap was wrapped around his head and leg. A horse blanket covered Hank from chin to toes. Johnny grinned at his Captain and told Roy, "Pink on a man?"

"What?" Roy asked.

Johnny pointed to the bandages, "Pink vet wrap."

The implication was lost on Roy for a minute, then a smile played across his face, "Pink, huh, well, could be worse, I guess. Think we should tell him when he feels better?"

Johnny grinned, "Wouldn't the Phantom like to see this?" Roy just shook his head as the two set to work. Johnny contacted Rampart as Roy got the vitals of their commanding officer.

"Rampart, this is Squad 51, how do you read?"

"Go ahead, 51," came Brackett's voice. He and Dixie had heard the call and were waiting for the squad to contact them.

"Rampart, we have a Code I, male 35 years. old. Be advised victim is Captain Hank Stanley of Station 51."

"10-4 Do you have the vitals?"

"Vitals to follow," Johnny said. Johnny looked over at Roy,

"BP is 135/90, Pulse 90, respiration 20 and even. Pupils sluggish but equal and reactive to light."

Johnny repeated the information to Rampart.

"10-4, 51, start an IV D5W TKO, wide open. Also start another of Ringers, also wide open and transport as soon as possible."

"10-4 Rampart," Johnny said, and repeated the orders. Roy was ahead of him and had the first IV started as Johnny started the second one.

"Send down the stokes!" Roy called. He dodged as some loose dirt and rock fell from the ceiling. "Careful!" he cried.

A low rumble shook the ground. Roy and Johnny threw themselves across their prone comrade to protect him. A large chunk of the ceiling fell, and Roy heard Johnny grunt in pain.

"Johnny, you ok?" Roy asked.

Johnny grunted again, then tried to hide the pain as he said, "Yeah, I'm ok. Let's get Cap out of here before the whole building falls on us."

Roy went back to the opening, which was now larger. "Okay, send down the stokes!"

The stokes made its way slowly down. Roy grabbed it and he and Johnny placed Hank carefully in it and strapped him down. Roy looked over at his partner, whose face was pale and had a light sheen of sweat on his upper lip.

"You sure you're ok?" Roy asked him again. Johnny just nodded, wanting to save his breath for the climb out. Roy tied a guide rope to the stokes and kept it from hitting the edges of the ceiling as the men on top pulled the injured man to safety.

The ground shook again and more dirt and rock fell. Roy yanked Johnny away from the wall. Just before the wall came down both saw the coats and helmets hanging from the hooks pushed into the dirt. They looked at each other briefly then made a mad dash for the crossbeam and climbed up and out.

"Get out of here!" the Captain yelled at all the men. "Now! It's going down!"

The ground shook and rumbled as the overly wet ground collapsed and folded in on itself. A black cloud of dirt and rocks belched from the hole and filled the air. The last of the walls fell with a crash. Lights fell from their stands; the sound of exploding bulbs could be heard.

All the men stopped and stared. Each had the same thought running through their heads. Another few minutes, and no one would have made it out alive. A low moan broke the momentary spell that had fallen on the men. Hank was waking up, and feeling every bump and bruise his body had sustained.

The men quickly loaded Hank into the ambulance. "You want to ride with him?" Roy asked Johnny.

"Sure, see you at Rampart," Johnny said. Roy closed and locked the doors, then pounded on it twice to let the driver know he could go.

Dixie and Dr. Brackett met the ambulance at the doors. They unloaded the stretcher and Dr. Brackett said, "Treatment Room One. They wheeled the still unconscious man into the room and switched him from the stretcher to the gurney. The two ambulance men left the room as Johnny held up the IV bags and hung them on the pole.

"Dix, I want toxicology, CBC, electrolytes, CT, x-ray of head, chest and leg……." Brackett called out the tests he wanted run, and he wanted all of them "STAT!"

Dixie went to the phone and called for the portable x-ray and also to alert the labs of the needed tests.

Johnny stood back out of the way and watched as the doctors and nurses did their jobs quickly and efficiently. Had he not known better, the activity would have seemed chaotic and disorderly.

Dixie came over to him and said, "Come on, Johnny, lets get some coffee."

"Okay, Dix," he said, but when he pushed away from the wall he nearly collapsed from the pain that shot down his back.

Dixie caught him and asked, "Johnny? What's wrong?"

Johnny shook his head, unable to answer right away. She opened the door and called to two orderlies who were passing by to come help Johnny to another exam room.

"Take him to Two. I'll have Dr. Early come check him out." Dixie told them.The orderlies nodded and practically carried the now semi-conscious man into the room and placed him on the table. Dr. Early walked in and told his assisting nurse to call x-ray and get them down.

"Start an IV D5W," he said and began to examine the paramedic. He checked pupil responses and backed away hastily when Johnny tried to slap the pen light from his hand.

"Easy, Johnny," Early said. "Where do you hurt?" He kept running his hands over and around Johnny's torso and stopped when Johnny tensed up when his back and ribs were pressed.

The orderly removed Johnny's shirt and trousers then covered him with a sheet as Dr. Early kept up his exam. A nurse took his vitals and quietly read them off to the doctor.

Johnny's side and back had a large bruise started where the mortar from the collapsing building hit him. He was having trouble breathing, and kept trying to fight the nurse as she put the oxygen mask on him. Dr. Early tried to restrain the young man by pushing him back to the bed, and told him,

"Johnny, be still!"

But Johnny kept trying to leave the bed and get back to the other treatment room.

"Cap, how's Cap?" he finally gasped as he collapsed.

"He's fine, Johnny. Kel is with him now and they are doing all they can for him. Now let me do what I can for you!" Dr. Early told him firmly.

"K," Johnny said, calming down.

The portable x-ray entered the room as Dr. Early finished his examination. "I need chest, back and head," he told the technician, who nodded in response.

Dr. Early left the room to let the man do his job. He saw Dr. Brackett talking to Roy and Dixie, and joined the small group.

"How's Johnny," Roy asked.

"I think he'll be Okay. He may have a couple of cracked ribs and maybe a slight concussion. But all in all, he's in good shape. What fell on him?"

"Part of a ceiling from an old abandoned building. The sub-basement to be exact."

"That where you got your cut?" he motioned to Roy's head.

Roy ducked his head, "Yeah, but it isn't bad. Dix here fixed it up."

Dr. Early turned to Brackett and asked, "How's Hank?"

"All his tests so far have come back normal. He has a broken tib-fib and a mild concussion. I think his temperature is just because of the damp area he was in, but I have started him on antibiotics to stave off any infection."

"If you'll excuse me, "Roy said, "I'm going to call Maggie Stanley and let her know we found Cap." Roy walked off.

Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early looked at Dixie. She shrugged and said, "You know as well as I do how close those guys are. I told him I 'd call but he said he wanted to."

Both Doctors turned as a technician left each room. Both told the men, "I want those STAT."

Hank felt himself swimming in a sea of warmth and peace. The darkness no longer held any terror. He was safe, but how he knew this was beyond his ability to grasp at the moment. He moved a little, trying to get his bearings and felt a hand softly touch his shoulder. A soft voice called to him from the darkness. His eyes fluttered, then slowly opened. The face he saw was not the same one he remembered last time he looked. His brow furrowed in concentration.

"He's coming around," Dixie said.

Another face came into view, "Welcome back, Pal." said Dr. Brackett.

Hank gave a lazy grin, then puzzled hoarsely asked , "Where's the Li'l Angel?" His eyes closed as he fell back into unconsciousness.

"Who's Li'l Angel?" Dr. Bracket asked. Dixie shrugged. Dr. Brackett checked Hank's responses one last time, then told Dixie to prepare him to be moved to a room.

Dixie called two nurses in and gave them their orders, then joined Dr. Brackett in the hallway as Maggie Stanley walked through the doors. She saw them and walked up to them.

"Where's Hank?" she asked, worried.

"We're getting him ready to be transferred to a room," Dr. Brackett told her.

"Please, can I see him for just a minute?"

"Sure, right in here, but don't stay too long. I'll be down the hall if you want to talk," Brackett told her.

"Thanks," she smiled and entered the room. She stopped and looked at all the tubes and wires running from her husband's still form. Slowly she approached the bed, stepping around the bustling nurses and orderlies. She placed her hand on Hank's chest and spoke to him, "Hank, darling, I'm here."

Hank opened his eyes and looked at her then smiled, "Hey," he said weakly, " I'm gonna be just fine. Doc's got me all fixed up here."

Maggie tried to smile, but a tear slid from her eyes. "Oh, Hank," she said softly and held onto his hand.

"Ma'am," the nurse said, "We need to transfer him over." Maggie stepped back out of the way but the minute he was on the other gurney she grabbed his hand again. Dixie caught Maggie gently by the arm, forcing her hand from Hank's, and led her to the staff lounge.

"Let me buy you a cup of coffee, Maggie. As soon as they get him settled you can go up."

Maggie kept her eyes on the gurney until the elevator doors closed, "Dixie, will he be okay?"

Dixie's smile was genuine as she answered, "Yes, Kel said he only has a broken leg and a mild concussion. He has a slight temperature, but that is more than likely caused by where he was and how long he was there."

Roy stood at the base station drinking a cup of coffee, waiting until he could go in to see his partner. Dr. Early had assured him Johnny would be fine. He had suffered a couple of cracked ribs and a mild concussion. Carol walked up and sat down on the stool. She saw Roy twirling his radio and smiled at him.

"Well, I see she got your radio back to you. Did she get your coat to you as well?" Carol asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Roy said in a distracted way. "Listen, if the guys show up from the station tell them I'm in seeing Johnny, ok?"

Carol assured him she would pass along the message, then turned to her work. Roy walked down to Treatment Room Two and knocked gently before entering.

"Hey, Junior, how ya doing?" Roy asked.

" Okay, I guess, a little sore at the moment. How's Cap?"

"He's going to be okay. Dr. Brackett said all he had was a broken leg and a mild concussion. Maybe a little hypothermic, but nothing to worry about."

Johnny grinned, "Man, that's great! Did anyone call Maggie?"

Roy nodded, "I did. She's with him now. They moved him upstairs just a few minutes ago. "

Johnny winced as he sat up. He started to slide from the bed when Roy caught him and made him lay back down. "Where do you think you are going?"

"Well, I don't think I'll be staying here tonight. Dr. Early said I was ok, just rest a bit."

"Uh huh," Roy said. "Well, from what I heard you get to spend the night here. I heard him telling the nurses to be sure a room was made ready for you."

"Oh, man, I hate staying here! I'm not gonna die if I go home." Johnny complained. Dixie walked in and heard his last comment.

"Well, fly boy, that's just too bad, because you are our special guest tonight. So just plant it and be quiet." Her eyes twinkled. She looked at Roy and said,

"How's the head?"

"So why doesn't he have to stay?" grumbled Johnny.

"Because his head is harder than yours," Dixie told him, and waved the two orderlies in who would be transporting Johnny to his room.

"NOT another word," Dixie said when she saw Johnny open his mouth to speak. His jaws clamped shut and he glowered at the two standing over him.

"Hold it a minute, guys," Johnny said to the two orderlies, "Dixie, how's Jim?"

" In better shape than you right now. He has a broken arm. He'll be out a while," she said and waved the two orderlies out.

"Ya know, this keeps up, there won't be any paramedics left in the county," Johnny mused to no one in particular.

Dixie and Roy just smiled at each other.

Roy paced the day room. In less than an hour he would be heading home, but something kept nagging at his mind, something he should have paid attention to, or seen a little clearer. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed again. Noticing his coffee had gotten cold he poured it down the sink and fixed another cup. Agitation kept him moving.

"Roy?" Captain Howard said. "What's the problem, pal?"

"I don't know. Something's bothering me, but I'm not sure what it is. I keep thinking it'll come to me, but all I get is a blank."

"Maybe you're trying too hard to remember. When you get home, get some rest and let it stew in the back of your mind. If you don't try so hard, maybe it'll come to you," the Captain said.

Roy's reply was cut short as the morning wake-up klaxons sounded. The rest of A shift stumbled into the room, eyes bleary from the lack of sleep. Sleepy "Morning's" were heard as each man either hit the showers or went after coffee.

Dwyer walked in and saw Roy's tired face. "How's Cap and Johnny?" he asked.

"They are both going to be fine. Cap has a broken tib-fib and Johnny has cracked ribs. Both suffered minor concussion. Dr. Brackett is keeping Cap several days to be sure no complications rise from his stay underground. Johnny's going home this afternoon," Roy told him.

Dwyer sighed, "Man, I wonder who it was that found him. How'd they get your coat? Why didn't they stay around?"

If I could answer all those questions I'd probably get the mind reader's award of the year," Roy said as he chuckled at Dwyer.

Bryce came strolling in to the day room, "Morning gentlemen. Any news on Captain Stanley?"

"You fill him in, Dwyer," Roy said and walked into the dorm to change clothes and head home.

Dwyer rolled his eyes, Bryce, of all people, to be his temporary partner! "Lucky me," Dwyer thought.

"Morning, honey!" Joanne said as Roy walked in the door. He gave her a sound kiss and a solid hug. She was always a good pick-me-up after a hard shift.

"Hey!" she laughed at him. "What's the celebration about?"

"Let me tell you about yesterday; you won't believe it!"

Joanne poured Roy a cup of coffee, then sat at the table with him. He filled her in on the events, then said,

" I feel like I've missed something somewhere, but I just can't seem to grasp it."

"Well, I'll tell you what, I have the two Stanley kids here with Chris and Jenny. We were planning on taking you out for a picnic, but you look like you could use some sleep. I'll take the kids to a movie and you go lay down for a while. When we get back this afternoon we can go out and have burgers for dinner. How's that grab you?"

"Awww, I hate to ruin your plans for the kids, but I could stand to get a little sleep." Roy looked at his wife gratefully. He hugged her again and finished his coffee before heading upstairs to bed.

Joanne shook her head. She never really knew what sort of things her husband found himself in on a shift to shift basis, but she was sure of one thing, he always made it home one way or another.

"So far," she amended.

"Daddy! Daddy!" she heard Jennifer's high childish voice and her squeal of laughter as Roy grabbed her up and tickled her. Soon Chris and the two Stanley children joined in the fun. Joanne laughed, then called the children down to breakfast.

Roy tossed and turned. It was so dark, and cold. The air felt damp and sticky. Roy tried to see something, anything. He listened, but only heard the thump of his own heart. Suddenly he thought he heard a voice cry out in the murky darkness, "Cap!" he called, "Johnny?" but no one replied. He ran, trying to locate the voice. The darkness swirled in around him.

"Roy?" he heard the voice again, "Roy!" the voice sounded scared, lost. "Johnny? Cap?" Roy was getting desperate. Where were they? Why could he not find his friends?

Something was sitting on his chest. His breathing was constricted. He tried to drag in a breath but found it hurt too much. He fought the darkness. A figure loomed in front of him. It was dressed in his turnout coat. He was afraid. The figure started to turn, but the face he saw was not one he knew. He reached out and tried to touch the figure, but it slowly slipped through his fingers. Eyes filled with despair and pain looked through him and beyond.

A light came in to view. A voice drifted out of the light. It was a soft voice, filled with laughter. It was telling him something about his radio and his coat. "She gave it back to you?" said the voice. The light grew in intensity until it pierced his closed eyes.

Roy woke with a jolt. "She gave it back to you" still rang in his ears. That was what had been bothering him. Carol had asked if she had given him his coat as well as the radio. She, who? Roy sat and tried to remember exactly what Carol had said to him. His head was still full of cotton and he could not think straight, but sleep now eluded him.

Roy left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. He needed a caffeine hit bad.

Joanne had left the pot on for him and he poured himself a cup. It was fairly strong, and Decaf, but at this point he did not care. Roy sipped the drink and tried to think. Finally, he rose and called Rampart and asked to speak with Head Nurse Dixie McCall. When she came on the line he asked if Carol was still working or if she had left for the day.

"She left for the weekend," Dixie told him. She won't be back until Monday afternoon. Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was hoping to ask her who it was that was supposed to give me my turnout coat. We found it at the rescue sight, but the woman who left it was gone." Roy explained.

"I wish I could help you, Roy, but as soon as Carol gets back I'll have a talk with her. Okay?" Dixie said.

Roy sighed, "Well, if she should get back early would you let me know? It could be important. The department really wants to know who it was that found Cap. Seems she refused to identify herself... And I'd like a chance to say 'Thanks,' too"

"Is she in trouble?" Dixie asked.

"No, in fact whoever it is, is up for a commendation. We just don't know who it is, but I think Carol might know."

"Okay, Roy. Listen, a couple of other nurses were on Friday night, too. Maybe they would know who it was. Let me call them and see what they have to say. I'll get back with you," Dixie told him.

"Okay, thanks, Dixie, I owe you one."

Roy thought about calling his friend Vince Howard, an Officer on the LA Police Force. He knew the L.A.P.D. was also interested in who the woman was that called in the rescue. Roy decided instead to visit his partner at the hospital.

Johnny was bored. He hated staying in the hospital more than just about anything. He had seen the inside of Rampart as a patient more than he wanted, especially the past three months, even though all were minor problems. A soft knock brought interest to his face.

"Hey, Roy! Come on in. I was supposed to go home today, but I'm being held over for some reason." Johnny said in exasperation.

"I'd say a fever of 101 was enough to keep you here," Roy said. "But look at it this way, you get free meals and plenty of pretty nurses to visit you."

Johnny snorted, "Guess who's on the floor today? She ain't pretty!" Johnny moaned.

"Awww, the nurse from………" Roy said, eyes twinkling.

Johnny nodded. "I want out of here!"

Roy tried his best not to smile, but failed miserably. "Look, why don't I see if you can get out of bed long enough to go visit Cap. Would that make you feel better?"

Johnny brightened immediately. "Yeah, that would be great!"

"Okay, I'll be back in a minute," Roy said as he walked out the door.

Ten minutes later, Roy was pushing Johnny down the hall and into Hank Stanley's room. Maggie was sitting next to the bed holding his hand. She blushed when the two paramedics walked in. Hank grinned and waved them over, but refused to let his wife's hand go.

"Hey, guys! Good to see you. Well, Johnny, I see you just had to join me here!" Hank teased.

"Gees, Cap! I was supposed to go home today, but they're holding me over because of a tiny little fever." Johnny groused.

"Well, Pally, better safe than sorry. You should know by experience." Hank was referring to an episode of several months prior when Johnny had a delayed reaction to a head injury.

Johnny gave his friends a lopsided grin, "Yeah, well……."

Hank and Roy laughed at Johnny's discomfort.

Then Roy's face turned serious, "Cap, do you have any idea who it was that found you? The department is really hammering it home to find this woman."

Hank shook his head, "No, all I have is a hazy memory of a fuzzy face. I'm doing good to remember the name she even gave me, and I suspect it isn't her name. Doesn't sound right."

"What do you mean?" asked Johnny and Roy together.

"Well, what kind of name is Li'l Angel? Certainly not your average name now, is it?" Hank said. "But at the time, she really looked like an angel to me, fuzzy outline and all."

Johnny sat up a little straighter. "You sure that's the name she gave you?" he asked, excitement dancing in his eyes.

"Yes," Hank answered. "Why?"

"That sounds like a CB handle. I used to talk to a Li'l Angel several years ago. She was a talker, too!" Johnny laughed at the memory. "Surely, it can't be the same gal."

"What are the chances?" Roy asked. "CB names change fairly rapidly, if I remember right, huh, Junior?"

"Don't call me that! Sheesh!" Johnny said. "Is this gal going to be in trouble? I mean, she did call it in, and she did treat Cap's injuries and all."

"I talked to McConnike and he said all they want is to meet this gal and say 'Thanks'. I think the police are more interested in what she saw," Hank told the two.

Johnny looked at his partner,

"Did we see what I thought we saw? Turnout coats?"

Roy shrugged, "That's what I saw; helmets, too. But I didn't see how many there were."

"Six," Hank said quietly, "and all people we knew or worked with at one time."

A knock interrupted the conversation. The door opened and the rest of A- shift came into the room.

"Hey, Cap!" "Good to see you, Cap!" "Trying for an early vacation, Cap?" three of the men said simultaneously. The fourth just stood quietly and smiled at his friend.

"Hey guys, glad you could make it!" Hank said to the group. "What took you so long to dig me out? You fellows decide to have dinner first?"

The men knew Hank was only teasing, but even so they stammered and shuffled around for a minute before Roy and Johnny started laughing at their antics.

Mike Stoker, the quiet one of the group, broke the tension by walking over and placing a large flowering plant on the bedside table.

"We bought something else for Maggie to feed," he said. Maggie rolled her eyes with a grin.

"Thanks guys, I'm touched," Hank said. "We were just discussing the rescue. Seems our mysterious woman has vanished from the face of the earth. Any ideas?"

"Well," Johnny said, "I know she knows something about horses simply because of the supplies she used to splint your leg and bandage your head. Plus the horse blanket she used to cover you was well used. At least it was clean." This last was said with a hint of a gentle ribbing at Hank.

"That was clean?" Hank asked. "It smelled awful!" Hank wrinkled his nose at the memory, one of few he had of the rescue.

Johnny laughed, "Well, Cap, I assure you, it was clean. I have to wash Smokey's and Heather's blankets before storing them every year and the smell just sorta…..stays." Johnny shrugged. "I like the smell."

"Guess I have more of the city in me than I care to admit," Hank said with a shrug.

Dixie entered the room. "It sounds like a convention in here," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. "Johnny, you need to get back to your room; a certain nurse is complaining about her worst patient going AWOL, again."

Johnny grimaced, "Can't I change floors or something?" Dixie gave him that look and he swallowed the rest of his comment.

"Oooo Kaaaaaaay, I'm going. Roy, would you do me the honors?" Roy held the door for Dixie as she pushed Johnny from the room. "Actually, I was expecting Roy to deliver me back to the valley……"

"Johnny, be nice," the men heard as the door closed. The men left behind, laughed.

On Monday afternoon Carol walked into the Nurses' Lounge and changed into her uniform. She was humming the latest song from the radio when a short stocky nurse peeked around the lockers at her, "Have a good weekend, Dearie?" she asked.

"Oh, my, yes. Just too short, as usual," Carol answered. "How was your weekend, Tracy?"

"Oh, about usual," Tracy said.

Carol laughed, "You're too sweet. Did you baby sit again?"

Tracy blushed and ducked her head, "Uh huh."

Carol laughed at the older nurse as she left the locker room. She headed for the head nurse's desk to sign in and report, but Dixie was not around. Carol signed in and went up to Pediatrics.

Carol entered the Nurse's Lounge on the third floor and poured herself a cup of coffee. She was studying the charts of two new children admitted the night before.

The Head Pediatric Nurse poked her head around the door of the lounge, "Carol, you're needed down in Emergency as soon as you have time. Dixie said there was no rush."

"Okay, thanks, Kelley," Carol said.

Dixie looked up as Carol approached the desk. She smiled at the worried look on the young nurse's face. She quickly reassured Carol that she had done nothing wrong, and all she needed was some information concerning the past Friday night. Carol visibly relaxed.

"What happened Friday night?" Carol asked.

"One of the Fire Chiefs disappeared during a call. There was a search made but he wasn't located right away. Somewhere during the night he was found and brought in. But what I need to know about is the turnout coat you found. Who did you give it to, and what did they do with it?" Dixie asked her.

"Ummm……" Carol said as she tried to recall the events of Friday night. "I was on Pediatric Floor that night. Oh, now I remember! Pete, I think it was, found one of the turnout coats laying in the parking lot next to the Emergency entrance. He wanted to know what to do with it. So I told him I'd give it to you, and maybe you could get it back to the rightful owner."

"I never got it," Dixie said.

Carol shook her head, "No, Marsha came along about then and I gave it to her. She said she would take care of it. I didn't think anything else about it. When I saw Mr. Desoto with his radio later on that night I just assumed he found the coat hanging by the base station, or that Marsha had managed to get it to him."

Dixie nodded, lost in thought. "Okay, Carol, thanks."

"Dixie, are we in trouble? Did I do something wrong? Maybe I should have given it directly to you?" Carol asked worriedly. "Is Marsha in trouble?"

Dixie smiled and said, "No, no one is in trouble, but the person who returned the coat needs to be found. I guess it's possible she left it hanging here and someone else could have taken it. I'll find out when I talk to her. I just need to catch her at home, first." This was said on a chuckle.

Carol looked at Dixie for a moment then made a slight face.

"Marsha has gone hiking in the mountains again. I think she was going to go by and check on her horses first, then head out to her favorite spot. I bet she won't be home until the very last minute."

Dixie frowned, "Do you know where she liked to go?"

"No, I'm sorry. Hiking just isn't my cup of tea," Carol told her.

Dixie sighed, "Then I guess we'll just have to wait. Thanks Carol, and please, don't spread any of this around, Okay?"

"No problem, Dixie," Carol said, and went back to her station.

Dixie McCall answered the phone at the nurse's desk, "Rampart Emergency, Nurse McCall. How may I help you?"

Dixie listened to the voice at the other end of the line, "Oh my! Is she okay?" Dixie listened again. She saw Kelly Brackett leave his office and waved him over, "Uh huh, right, sure. No, tell her it is no problem. Yes, Okay. Thanks for calling, Tracy."

"What was that about?" Dr. Brackett asked a frowning Dixie.

"That was Tracy Douglas, head nurse up in Pediatrics. Seems one of our nurses has ended up in the emergency room of Bay Hope, today."

"What's Tracy doing at Bay Hope?" Brackett asked.

"She volunteers there twice a week," Dixie explained, "Anyway, seems the Search and Rescue got a call about a downed hiker. They rushed her in to Bay Hope, and Tracy recognized her."

"Well, who is it?" Brackett asked, impatiently.

"Marsha," Dixie said.

"You're kidding!" Brackett exclaimed in surprise. "Quiet, unassuming Marsha?

What happened?"

"Well, Tracy wasn't sure, but she said she thinks Marsha made an unscheduled side trip down Turtle Mountain. She has some cuts and bruises, but what worried the doctor the most was a lump she had sustained on the side of her head. Tracy said Marsha was unconscious when they brought her in, but came to pretty quick." Dixie paused. Brackett waited.

"Seems she kept telling them to let her 'get him out before the walls fell', but that was all she'd say." Dixie chuckled. "Also, it seems she may be small, but according to Dr. Gregory, she's as strong as an ox! Tracy said the good doctor would probably sport a nice shiner for a few days."

"Kel," Dixie started to ask, but he interrupted her,.

"Let's see if we can get her transferred here. I'd like to keep an eye on her myself, as I am sure you do, too?" Dixie smiled and agreed. He had read her mind.

"I'll make the arrangements. You make sure a room is ready," he told her.

Dixie turned to the telephone and started making calls. Dr. Brackett went back to his office and began the transfer procedures.

Someone knocked on the door to her room, then a head peeked around the door. A tall slender man with a cast on his leg walked into the room. His crutches made a soft thumping sound as he slowly made his way through the door. He grinned at her and asked,

"Okay if I come in for a visit?"

"Sure," she said, not certain who this stranger was, but feeling she knew him at the same time. Then it came to her, the injured fireman. "How are you doing?" she asked, eyeing him warily.

"Doing fine," he said, "I umm," he cleared his throat. She was surprised at his discomfort. He tried again, "I , ah, wanted to come by and see how you were doing. Dixie told us you were brought in yesterday. Something about falling off the edge of a mountain?"

Marsha smiled. She liked this gentle giant, as she thought of him because of his height.

"Yeah," she chuckled, "I decided walking was too slow, so I took the elevator down."

Hank laughed at her attempted joke.

"I wanted to see how you were doing. And to meet my Li'l Angel," he said.

She stiffened slightly, but quickly relaxed, at the name. How did he know? She looked at him through her lowered lashes, not sure how to answer him. Finally, deciding discretion was the better part of valor, she smiled and said,

"I'm not sure what you mean, Mr...?" she let the question ride.

"Oh, Hank. Hank Stanley," he supplied.

"Mr. Stanley. I didn't do anything to be thanked for, that I am aware of." She hoped he would fall for the little white lie. She watched his expression, but could not really tell his thoughts, as he kept his head down and slightly turned.

Hank had seen her stiffen slightly when he called her Li'l Angel. He was sure now that he had found the woman responsible for his rescue.

"That's okay," he said, thinking maybe the bump had caused some memory lapse, but knowing otherwise. He let her think she had him fooled.

"Just, thanks, anyway, Okay?" he smiled gently at her. Walking over to the bed, he held out his hand to her. She placed her hand in his. He gave a gentle squeeze and released her. "Is it okay if I come back in a little while? I have to get back before I am reported AWOL."

Marsha wondered for the umpteenth time what sort of trouble she would be in if she just got up and left. She really had no reason to be held here, she thought. All her bumps and bruises had been gone over. She had been poked and prodded until she was ready to scream. Dr. Brackett had run his "few other" tests and pronounced her in good shape. So WHY would they not let her go home? Dixie assured her there was no problem with the work schedule, and that she would be allowed to return to work the following Monday. It was Thursday now, and Marsha wanted to get her truck, and go home to some peace and quiet.

Dixie walked through the door and heard the long draw out sigh,

"What's wrong? Bored already?"

"Dixie, I am going nuts here! Why can't I go home? I need to get my truck from the lodge, and then get home to do some cleaning."

Dixie shook her head, "You had a head injury, and Dr. Brackett just wants to be absolutely sure you don't have another episode like you did out on the trail."

Marsha glared at Dixie, because she knew as a patient she could get away with it. "I want to go home today! I feel fine, and I really don't need to be taking up bed space that could be better utilized for sick people."

Dixie just smiled her irritating smile and did not answer. She took Marsha's vitals and fluffed up the pillows.

"You might as well just relax. You'll be here at least through today. Maybe tomorrow you will be allowed to go home, alright?"

"What's wrong with today?" Marsha grumped.

Marsha was starting to sound like a certain paramedic Dixie was a little partial to.

Dixie said, "Lunch will be here in a minute. If you want to go home you need to start eating more than just a nibble or two."

"I eat!" Marsha said, "I just don't like this stuff they call food here."

Dixie laughed at the statement. Hospital food really was not that bad, but most people wanted home cooked, not something a dietician said was good for them. "I'll see what I can do," Dixie told her.

"There are some people here that would like to see you. Feel up to some visitors?" Dixie asked.

Marsha frowned; who would want to visit her? She shrugged, "Sure, why not? Beats just hanging out here alone."

Dixie smiled again. Marsha was truly different out of uniform and away from work. Dixie poked her head out the door and motioned to someone waiting. Two paramedics walked in. One was tall and slim with dark hair, the other tall and heavier built with blond hair. She looked at them curiously.

"I'll be back shortly," Dixie said and left.

The quiet in the room grew heavy after Dixie left. Marsha waited patiently for one of the two men to speak. Finally the blond paramedic spoke.

"I'm Roy Desoto and this is my partner, John Gage," he said, indicating the taller man. "We were told you were brought in a couple of days ago."

"Gees," she thought sourly, "does everyone know about my trip down the mountain?" She waited quietly for him to continue.

"We need to know if you are the one who returned my coat," Roy said, then hastily added, "You aren't in trouble if you did. But if it wasn't you we need to know who it might have been."

"Why? If you got your coat back, isn't that all that counts? Did you find the radio, too?" she asked then realized her mistake. "I mean, it was in the pocket when Carol gave me the coat. I took it to the base station and hung it up."

Roy watched her as she tried to backtrack, "Look, like I said, you aren't in any trouble. Believe me. It's just, well, it would be nice to know who it was that found Captain Stanley. He received some excellent care, and the department just wants to say thanks to the person responsible."

Johnny jumped in, "But we couldn't save your horse blanket. I'm afraid the wall collapsed before we could retrieve it."

"That's okay," she said, "I have several others………." She trailed off looking at the paramedic, knowing she had fallen into a trap.

"Ah, jeez," she sighed. "Look, I didn't want anyone to know it was me. I did what I thought was right because no one else was doing anything and the floor plans being used were the wrong ones. The ones on hand were only filed three years ago. I had the originals from the 1800's. It showed the smuggler's basement. Your plans didn't."

"Why didn't you hang around?" Johnny asked.

"Why? You had it under control. Besides, I would only have been in the way. That floor was ready to go any time and too much weight would have caved it in."

"The floor did cave in, but we were able to get our people out, including Johnny here, with minimal injuries," Roy told her.

"Oh man, you were hurt?" she asked.

"I got a few bruises and bumps, nothing major. But I understand you took some bumps and bruises of your own down in that hole," Johnny said.

"A bump on the head and a splinter in the leg, nothing major," she quipped back at Johnny, with a wry grin.

Roy's grin turned into a full laugh at Johnny's expression. "Touche´!" Roy said.

"Hush!" Johnny grumped.

Vince stood outside the door of Marsha's room. Dixie told him the two paramedics had visited Marsha earlier and confirmed that she was, indeed, the one to have called in the rescue. She was still not convinced she was not in trouble for having left the scene. Vince had shaken his head and told Dixie he would go talk to her, because he had to get a report on what she may or may not have seen in the basement.

"You don't scare her. She's already uptight over the situation," Dixie told him sternly.

"If she had just stayed around this wouldn't be necessary. But she didn't and now she has to pay the fiddler, so to speak," Vince said.

"You said she wasn't in any trouble," Dixie said, looking at him and getting angry.

Vince held out his hands in a placating gesture. "She's not in trouble; we just need her statement, and she made it a bit more difficult to obtain. Look, why don't you and Dr. Brackett meet me up at her room and you can be present when I question her."

"Meet where to question who?" Brackett said walking up and catching Vince's statement.

"He wants to question Marsha about Friday night. He says she isn't in any trouble, but it sounds as though she is," Dixie said.

Vince just sighed and rolled his eyes at her.

"Fine," said Brackett, "if she isn't in any trouble let's go see her."

Vince agreed and went ahead to wait at the room. Dixie glared at his retreating back. Brackett smirked, but ducked his head quickly when Dixie glared at him.

Dr. Brackett and Dixie hurried to join Vince at Marsha's room. Vince stood waiting, but immediately knocked once the two medical personnel arrived. He opened the door and stepped into the room with Brackett and Dixie hard on his heels. Dixie immediately crossed to stand by Marsha's bed and took her pulse. Brackett stood opposite her and both looked at Vince. Marsha looked up in surprise at the two standing by her. Dixie looked a little defensive, but Brackett just stood watching with a slight muscle twitching under his eye. Marsha saw the police officer and immediately stiffened up. Dixie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Bracket saw the movement and said, "This is Officer Vince Howard of the LA PD He wants to ask you some questions concerning Friday night's rescue."

Marsha swallowed convulsively and nodded her understanding.

Vince pulled out a small portable tape player and threaded the tape through the machine. "If you don't mind, " he said, " I was asked to tape your statement for later transcribing." Marsha nodded.

"Vince," Dixie started to say but Brackett motioned for her to wait. Marsha watched in silence at the interchange.

"Dr. Brackett, Dixie, would you mind if I spoke with Officer Howard alone, please?" Marsha asked. Brackett was surprised at the request, but did not argue. He motioned for Dixie to follow him. At first Dixie hesitated, but when Marsha smiled a tight smile and shook her head, Dixie reluctantly left the room.

"We'll be just outside if you need us," Brackett told her. Marsha just smiled.

Once Dr. Brackett and Dixie left, Marsha looked at Vince and said in a hard voice, "How much trouble am I in for leaving the scene of an accident?"

"None," Vince told her, and saw her eyes widen in surprise. "You stopped and offered aid, then called in the rescue. You obviously stayed until you knew we were there," he smiled at her questioning look." The rope you used was still swinging from your hasty retreat when we arrived."

She smiled and relaxed a little.

"Then, what do you need me to tell you?" she asked. "You saw the same thing I did, I'm sure."

Vince shook his head, "No, I didn't see anything. I didn't go down into the hole, only the two paramedics. But Captain Stanley and both paramedics said they saw a very disturbing sight. Unfortunately Hank can't remember much and the other two…"

"Roy and Johnny?" she interrupted.

"Roy and Johnny," he confirmed, "only caught a glimpse."

"You want to know what was down there?" she asked in a subdued voice.

"Yes," said Vince. "It's important, because if this person is still on the loose…."

She interrupted again. "No, he's dead," she said quietly.

Vince only watched the now subdued woman sitting small and alone in the hospital bed, her face pale and a little sad. He flipped on the tape machine and said, "This is Officer Vince Howard of the L.A.P.D. recording the statement from one Marsha J. Prentiss at Rampart Hospital. July 17, 1974." He motioned to her to begin her story.

"Do you want from beginning to end or just down in the hole?" she asked.

"Start from the beginning he told her then stood and listened as she began to speak…..

Quickly, she told of being at the fire and hearing the call about the missing man. She told how she had offered the floor plans, but was turned away twice by a police officer walking the line. She then told about going to Police headquarters and being brushed off as insignificant. She then went to the LA Fire Department HQ and tried to get them to listen, but was again brushed off.

That night at work, "here at Rampart" she said, Cathy and Nancy had given her the turnout coat that belonged to a Desoto of Station 51. She had decided since no one would listen to her, to take matters into her own hands, "so to speak" she said.

Vince smiled encouragingly.

Once at the site, she had dug around in the debris until she found the door. It had taken about an hour, but her perseverance had paid off. She not only found the door, but had managed to get it open by jumping on it.

She told him about using the tool called a "come-along" and winching the crossbeam into place; then using her truck and come-along to get the beam down into the hole.

She described finding Hank Stanley and treating his wounds. She then paused as she collected her thoughts...

"I looked around and saw a man lying on the floor. He was stuck under a collapsed portion of the building. He had a dirty blue piece of material over his face. I guess the other victim covered him up. I removed the material and saw he was blue, so I knew I couldn't help him. Then I noticed his eyes seemed to be fixated to a spot just above himself. I draped the cloth back over his face, and then looked up. I saw a phrase that appeared to be written in the victim's own blood…….." she faltered.

Vince encouraged her, "What did it say?"

She shook her head, trying to get the image out of her mind. She swallowed a lump that was blocking her voice. Vince poured her a glass of water and held it out to her. She sipped the water gratefully, then continued,

"It said, 'ALL BUT ONE'….." and the last letter was smeared, as if he couldn't hold his hand up anymore. I guess he couldn't, could he, if he died?" she smiled weakly.

"What else did you see?" Vince asked.

Marsha took a deep breath and continued, "I saw some coats, just like the one Desoto has, hanging on the wall. There was six all total. Some hooks had been stuck into the dirt walls and both coats and helmets were hanging there. I looked at them, but I didn't touch them. Then I saw one hook that was empty, but there was scratching above the hook."

"Did you see what it said? Could you make the name out?" Vince said eagerly, leaning forward and listening hard.

Marsha nodded miserably, then suddenly stiffened and sat straighter. She looked Vince in the eye.

"What was the nameabove the seventh hook?" Vince asked gently.

Marsha looked at him and smiled. She spread her hands in a gesture of futility and said ……………….

28


End file.
